


Bruise Easily

by Enmuse (Scifiroots)



Category: Eureka
Genre: Community: rounds_of_kink, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misunderstanding, One Night Stands, Pheromones, Roughness, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-28
Updated: 2011-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-15 04:39:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/157119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scifiroots/pseuds/Enmuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt:  Quietly slide away off the mattress Find my clothing on the bedpost Slowly tiptoe out of this mess As I slip back into last night's dress - one night stand with unexpected partner</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bruise Easily

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vixys](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Vixys), [Sowilo](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Sowilo).



> Huge thank-yous to Sowilo and Vixys for looks at early versions. Infinite amounts of thanks (and kisses and hugs, first-born, etc.) to Vyxys for some beta-work and getting me through the final bits. Third- and second- to last scenes were proposed by her in a humorous outline and it’s the only way this actually got done. =D
> 
>  **Now with podfic!** Find it [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5040322).

He wakes up in an unfamiliar room. It’s too dark, he thinks; no windows. That’s his clue and he catches his breath, startled and horrified. Now that he has some idea what to expect, he listens to the deep breathing of his bed partner and can feel the warmth of a palm resting over his sternum.

_Shit._

Nathan Stark takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, silently. The hand on his chest rises and falls with his breathing.

He’s not ready to think about any of this, only cares about slipping away. Although he’s loath to touch the arm encroaching on his personal space, Nathan knows lifting the hand away will be less likely to wake Carter than letting it slide and drop when the scientist stands up. Nathan loosely encircles the sheriff’s wrist with his fingers and lifts while he slides out of bed.

Once on his feet he sways a bit, unbalanced by the darkness and the aftereffects of Teng’s ridiculous pheromone experiment.

Nathan forces himself to play back enough of the night to figure out where his clothes are. His shirt, tie, and jacket won’t be here, but he thankfully finds the rest in one pile after shuffling around in the dark. He shivers at the memory of Carter kneeling before him and stripping him of the remaining clothing.

_Shit._

For all his genius, his mind utterly lacks coherency when he’s disturbed.

Nathan yanks on underwear and pants and foregoes shoes and socks in favor of getting the hell out of the bedroom. At the door he has to pause a moment and run his fingers along the side to disengage the lock. He realizes locking the door likely means Zoe’s home.

_Oh. Oh fuck._

The situation is more problematic than first expected, and Nathan hurries into the hall, dimly lit but still too bright for his eyes. He squints and does his best not to stumble to the stairs. At the bottom he blinks to clear his vision and locate the rest of his clothes. He finds his shirt – horribly wrinkled – and jacket abandoned on the floor next to the door. His tie is missing.

Nathan pulls on his shirt and buttons it with shaking hands. He barely manages to bite back a curse when he realizes he doesn’t have the sides matched up. Amidst his scattered thoughts, part of his brain takes note of the serum’s aftereffects, although he’s not sure he’ll share with Teng. Maybe if she gets rid of the jumpy lab assistant that caused this whole mess.

 _Idiot. It sure as hell reacts with skin contact._ He lifts his arm to check the time and finds his wrist watch-less. With a small groan he looks over his shoulder at the stairs. No way in hell he’s going back up there. Somehow he’ll get it back later. Send Fargo, glare at him hard enough so he won’t ask questions.

With one last look around for his tie, Nathan moves to the door. He stares at it irritably when it remains closed.

“S.A.R.A.H., door.”

It takes a moment for the computer to answer and there’s a hint of reluctance as the door swings open. “Very well, Dr. Stark.”

Nathan clenches his jaw to refrain from cursing at the house as he exits.

The concrete under his bare feet is cold as he ascends the steps two at a time. At the top he pauses long enough to tug on his shoes before hurrying to his car. The coming dawn has lightened the midnight of the sky to a deep blue. He isn’t sure when Carter will wake, and he doesn’t want to find out.

His keys are still in the ignition, a reminder of how intent he’d been earlier. Nathan shudders at the memory of marching into the bunker and backing Carter into a wall. Arousal stirs in his gut and he determinedly chalks it up to another aftereffect.

_Shit._

With a violent twist he starts the engine. He decides he’ll inform Teng of the side effects as long as he doesn’t have to explain that the serum worked differently than previously recorded. He thinks he’d be better equipped to handle the aftermath if he had wantonly submitted and Jack reacted violently.

Instead he’s stuck with lust-filled memories of a mutual struggle for control. At least he won’t be the one walking oddly.

\---

Jack wakes with his arm extended over a rumpled pile of bedding still retaining warmth. In a moment he realizes what happened, why Nathan Stark had acted as he did. Jack just doesn’t know the exact cause. If he’s honest – and for now he will be, as he’s alone and in his bedroom – he doesn’t really want to know.

Is it too much to ask to get laid without it being the result of some science experiment gone haywire?

No, he really doesn’t want to know the truth.

Jack shuts his eyes and huddles under the blankets. Although he thinks it’s ridiculous, he hooks an arm around the pillow Stark had used and pulls it close. The scent of sex and sweat follows him back into sleep.

\---

S.A.R.A.H.’s voice urges Jack awake at the usual time. He opens his eyes and reluctantly lets go of Stark’s pillow.

“One night and it’s _his_ pillow?” he mutters to himself.

“Sheriff, Dr. Blake called to say she wants to meet with you at nine o’clock.”

It’s almost enough to make Jack crawl under the covers. With a sigh, he resigns himself to the fact that he’ll have to find out the details of the latest experiment-gone-wrong eventually.

“Thanks, S.A.R.A.H.” He stands up and stares at the bed. For a moment he imagines he can feel warm, confident hands roaming his body, gripping his hips.

Oh crap.

Jack shudders and quickly strips the bed. The pillows go flying and he shoves the linens into the laundry bin. “S.A.R.A.H...” he starts, swallowing hard when he realizes he doesn’t know what to say.

The house doesn’t respond for a few seconds, then it retracts the bin. “I’ll start the laundry, Sheriff.”

“Yeah...” Jack escapes to the shower and scrubs hard. He wishes he could block the memories... wishes he didn’t want to keep them. The images crowding the forefront of his thoughts and the remembered touches exploring his body make him hard. Biting his lip to keep from making too much noise, he grasps his cock and strokes.

He closes his eyes tightly as he recalls Nathan’s unexpected arrival: how strong the hands were that pressed him against the wall; how hot and inviting the scientist’s mouth and tongue had been. Yet Nathan had willingly allowed Jack to angle them to the stairs – once he’d broken from his stunned numbness. Nathan was naked long before Jack lost even his shirt.

The memory of kneeling in front of the scientist and stripping him makes Jack’s knees tremble. He braces his shoulders against the shower wall and tugs his cock firmly. He can’t contain a low moan of desire as he imagines Nathan at his feet, exploring his body with confident strokes. Jack’s hips buck and he slides one hand further between his legs.

His thoughts stutter to a halt and fix on a single image – Nathan poised above him, hands pressing apart Jack’s thighs. Jack’s mouth opens and his breath quickens as he sinks one finger into his hole. The move is enough to unlock a flood of remembered sensation and he climaxes with the memory of Nathan’s expression during orgasm.

Jack performs a perfunctory but thorough washing. When he steps out of the shower he just stands for a moment, a sudden sense of emptiness overwhelming him.

“This is so not good,” he grumbles to himself.

Somehow he manages to clear his thoughts while he shaves and dresses.

He heads downstairs for a light breakfast. With his stomach a little queasy, he isn’t sure how much he can handle.

Jack freezes when he sees Zoe sitting at the counter, seemingly engrossed with her cereal.

She looks up, her eyes widening. “Um, uh. Morning, Dad...” Her gaze darts to the stairs. _Crap._

“I, ah... Morning. Right.” He shuffles into the kitchen, turning his back to her as he contemplates breakfast.

Zoe breaks the silence after a few minutes. “So, um. Are you...? I mean, is Dr. Stark, like, still, um. Y’know, upstairs?” He _really_ doesn’t want to know how she learned of Stark’s presence.

“No.” Jack shuts his eyes as he says it and knows his sudden tensing gives away more than he wants to share. When he doesn’t hear any sort of response, he slowly turns around and watches his daughter. She’s staring intently at him with a frown.

“Um, Zo?”

Shaking her head quickly, Zoe slides off the stool and hurries for the stairs. “I’m gonna go, Dad,” she says.

He doesn’t have a reply before she runs upstairs to grab her schoolbag. She’s made it to the door before he can speak again. “Zoe!” She jerks to a stop but doesn’t look at him. Jack sighs and rubs a hand over his hair. “Zo, I, um. I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry...”

“What?” She turns her head, expression exasperated. “Dad, you don’t... God, why do you think you need to apologize?” Before he can answer, she steps closer to the doorway. “Never mind. Just... It’s nothing.” She shakes her head again and runs out.

“Oh hell,” Jack groans. “Today’s gonna _suck_.”

“Would you like a drink, Jack?” S.A.R.A.H. provides, almost sounding sympathetic.

“That wouldn’t be a good idea. Look, I’m not hungry. I’ll be home at the usual time. How ‘bout you make Zoe’s favorite for dinner?” he offers to keep the house from sulking.

When he goes to retrieve his jacket from upstairs, he sees a silver watch laying at the foot of the bed. He swallows hard and picks it up. His thumb rubs over the engraving on the back; the message is clearly from Allison.

S.A.R.A.H. wishes him good luck as he leaves with Nathan’s watch clutched in his hand.

\---

Allison comes into his lab a half hour after he arrives. Nathan casts her an annoyed glare and goes back to staring at the computer readouts as he inputs data. The task is simple but requires meticulous accuracy that keeps his mind focused on something productive.

For about ten minutes he’s allowed silence, longer than he expected. But Allison won’t wait forever and she jumps in without preamble, “Dr. Teng reported David’s accident last night. Since I didn’t get any panicked calls, I take it the only damage is the project’s setback and perhaps a ruined suit?” She sounds amused with the last.

Nathan grinds his teeth and refuses to answer. He jabs the keypad harder than necessary.

With a quiet sigh, Allison steps closer and lowers her voice. “So you _were_ affected. Where did you go, Nathan?”

“None of your business,” he snaps, staring determinedly at the screen.

Allison inhales sharply and he realizes she knows him far too well if she can guess what he refuses to say aloud. “Oh my god,” she breathes. “How long...? Nathan, are you all right?”

Straightening up, Nathan turns to stare down at her. She meets his irritated gaze with a startled expression.

“What the hell do you think happened?”

“Dr. Teng reported others’ reactions to the injected subject to be sexually violent—”

“And when experiments go wrong, do they work according to expectations?”

Allison frowns and he can tell she’s waiting for him to explain. He refuses to elaborate.

“She modified the serum since the last recorded results?” Allison asks. Her lips press together in a sign of annoyance when he doesn’t respond. “You’re fine? Okay. What should I expect when the sheriff comes in?”

Nathan flinches at that, realizing he’ll have to face Carter far earlier than he expected.

Allison’s expression becomes shuttered. “What happened, Nathan?”

“It’s not your business,” he snaps and starts to turn away. Allison stops him with a tight grip around his elbow. He stares pointedly at her hand.

“I’m not letting this slide, Nathan.” Allison’s grip loosens and she steps away. “You don’t have to screw this up,” she says quietly.

\---

Jack taps his fingers on his chair in front of Allison’s desk as she finishes a conference call. He wishes she didn’t know anything about Stark showing up at the bunker, but he knows he’s not that lucky. Secrets are particularly complicated in Eureka, and the best way to keep them is share other secrets to throw the curious off-track. Jack isn’t sure yet what he can say that will keep Allison from asking too much.

His backside aches as he shifts restlessly in the chair. He grimaces at the physical reminder of last night’s activities.

Allison clears her throat. Jack feels heat rising to his cheeks when he meets her knowing gaze. He swallows convulsively but holds his tongue, letting her make the first move.

“I believe you’re aware that Nathan was exposed last night to an experimental serum.” Jack manages to hide his wince this time as he straightens up. He can’t quite look her in the eye.

“Well if you know already,” Jack says, proud that his voice is steady, “I have something he, uh, forgot.” He digs the watch out of his pocket and deposits it on the desk. Instead of watching Allison, he focuses his attention on the watch.

For a few moments she doesn’t say anything, though she brings the timepiece closer. He can feel her stare assessing him and he suddenly worries about any tell-tale bruising. He hadn’t looked closely in the mirror this morning, but certain activities from the night have likely left a mark. He knows Stark will be sporting a few bruises, too.

Allison gently breaks in with the reassurance, “Nothing shows.” This doesn’t make him feel any better. When he glances up to meet her gaze, he knows that he hasn’t hidden his emotions well. She clears her throat again and glances down at a screen filled with charts. “I have information about the incident,” she offers.

“No,” Jack responds without thinking. He meets her surprised look with one of his own.

“Carter?”

Jack looks away and clenches his fingers to keep from fidgeting.

“I don’t want to know,” he eventually answers.

Allison doesn’t say anything for a long time. When she does, her tone is professional. “Are there any injuries that need to be treated?” Jack clenches his teeth and jerks his head in the negative. “Do you wish to file any grievances?”

“No.” He frowns and casts her a suspicious look. “Are you expecting me to press charges or something?”

Her stoic expression gives nothing away. “If you feel it’s necessary.”

Jack lurches to his feet and braces himself on the desk. “Damn it, Allison, what do you think happened?”

A very brief glimpse of amusement turns up the corners of her lips. “Why don’t you tell me?”

With a sinking feeling, Jack lowers himself onto his chair again and covers his face with his hands. “Nathan said something. What did he tell you?” Without giving her a chance to answer, he presses, “Is he... ‘filing grievances’?” Determinedly he fights the wave of nausea that idea provokes.

Allison’s hesitation makes him nervous but he doesn’t look up, afraid of what he might find.

“No, he’s not.” Her tone has moved away from the cool professional. He’s unsure whether the note of concern is for him or Stark. “We’ve established there are no physical...injuries to address. But I’m considering sending you to see our new psychologist.”

Jack rolls his eyes even though she won’t be able to see the action. “No.”

“Jack,” she sighs. “I’d be sending Nathan, too. Separate sessions but... You might find it helpful.”

With a frustrated groan, Jack drops his hands into his lap and meets Allison’s troubled gaze. He shrugs helplessly. “Talking just... Look, I’m _already_ reliving— It’s just a _bad_ idea.” He slumps in the chair with a grimace.

“It’s a bad idea leaving either of you to brood over this on your own. Come on, Carter. You know better than to think this will just disappear.” Her own frustration pushes aside the previous concern.

Jack shakes his head. “God, Allison. It’s barely the day after. Can you back off?” He peers at her hopefully. At her frown, he tries, “For now at least?”

For a moment it looks like she’ll press the point, but in the end she sighs and relents. “For now. We _will_ talk about this later.” She gives him an assessing glance as he gets up. Jack waits tensely for her to make some sort of judgment.

“Can I go?”

“Yes. Thanks for coming in, Sheriff.”

Jack politely keeps from snorting. Not like he had much choice in the matter. He doesn’t bother to say goodbye.

\---

Nathan is reluctant to respond to Allison’s summons, suspicious because she’s sent the request through Fargo and it’s mere hours after their earlier “conversation.” Yet a part of him admits he wouldn’t mind having a mediator around when he next sees Carter. (He’s sure this is why she called.)

The elevator opens and he takes a deep breath before stepping out. He’s partway up the stairs to Allison’s office when he sees Carter, who clearly does not see him since the man’s scowling down at his feet. Nathan tenses, realizing that Allison’s decided to manipulate the situation without inserting herself into the equation. Damn it. This is not a meeting that should be taking place in a public stairwell.

Carter stumbles to a halt a couple steps above Nathan, eyes widening. “Crap.”

Expression cool, Nathan meets the man’s gaze unflinchingly. Carter quickly looks away and starts rubbing the back of his neck in a familiar gesture of nervousness.

“Some, uh, disaster – accident – thing I need to know about?” Carter asks, still looking intently at the wall.

“This morning? No.”

Carter looks at him sharply and Nathan can clearly read the emotions that play in quick succession through his eyes – shock, worry, regret, hurt.

_Shit._

“Okay.” Carter breaks eye contact, this time staring straight ahead, jaw tight. “I’ve got work.”

The stairway is wide enough to let people walk side-by-side but Carter stays put. Nathan figures it’s best to cut this off now before either of them says something stupid – although it seems he’s already said the wrong thing. However, he can’t make himself move and has the uncomfortable urge to apologize.

Carter’s lips tighten as he shifts closer to the wall. With a shuttered gaze he looks at Nathan and casts his arm toward the top of the stairs in invitation. His lips part but Nathan speaks over him,

“Carter—“

Carter’s voice raises to cut him off, “Jack.” Baffled, Nathan shuts his mouth and stares at the man. “Jeez, Stark,” the name suddenly seems forced and Carter’s lips turn down as he says it. He shakes his head and chuckles without humor. “You had your dick up my ass, I think it’s a little late for formality.”

Nathan shivers and only hopes it isn’t visible. Carter—Jack’s language sparks a memory of his voice brushing against Nathan’s ear, promising lewd actions in wholly inappropriate venues.

“Why’d you...?” The confusion in Jack’s voice breaks through his distraction.

Nathan’s eyes widen as he pulls away from the flashback, realizing too late that their gazes have been locked the entire time. The sheriff’s expression has given way to confusion and hurt and this is so completely out of hand.

“Sheriff,” he begins, voice firm.

“Forget it. Just... jeez, Nathan, what the hell do you expect?”

Nathan lets the other man push past before reaching out to grab his shoulder. “Sheriff... Jack. Look—”

“Go on,” Jack snaps, pulling away. “Get to your damn meeting.” His pace speeds up as he continues down the stairs.

For some time Nathan stays there, idiotically staring after Jack Carter. He has no idea what to do at this point except maybe go up and blame Allison for putting him in this position when he hasn’t had enough time to plan.

The self-righteous head of steam he builds up on the way to the office is spoiled when Allison greets him with crossed arms and a frown on her face. She’s standing in front of her desk and fixes him with a disappointed glare.

“What?” he snaps.

“You are an idiot,” she announces.

He takes a deep breath instead of responding to the jibe.

“You know why?” she prompts. No, and he really doesn’t want to know. “You can’t see that the reason he’s upset is because he thinks last night is the consequence of an experiment.”

“It was,” Nathan replies with an irritated eye-roll.

Allison sits on the edge of her desk with a sigh. “Why did you leave Global last night?”

“It wasn’t supposed to transfer by skin contact,” he defends.

“But why not go home? Call me? Why go to Carter’s? You had options, you could still _think_. It certainly sounds like everything was consensual. Did you really have no idea what you were doing?”

Nathan can feel his lip curl at her audacity. She’s had no part in recent events, no experience from which to make critiques. The fact that her demands are drawing out questions that have previously been faint shadows at the edge of his thoughts makes the inquiry all the more galling.

Allison never entered his thoughts during the night, but the sheriff had been on his mind. Earlier in the evening he’d been distracted by recollecting the sheriff’s latest upstaging of a GD scientist’s plan with a relatively simple, yet far more effective, solution. The man had surprising depth considering his overall dull background and usual presentation of the village idiot. (Admittedly, Eureka’s version of the “village idiot” would be considered above-average intelligent anywhere else.)

So he’d been thinking about Carter prior his encounter with Teng’s experiment. Nathan believes that explains how he ended up at the bunker. Yet he can’t quite disregard Allison’s suggestion that he could have gone home, alone.

His memories of the night are astonishingly clear and without gaps. So yes, he’d known what he was doing, but he’d still felt out of control.

“I couldn’t stop,” he mutters.

“Did you want to?” Allison reads his silence correctly. A touch of amusement affects her voice when she asks, “And did he want you to stop?”

He closes his eyes, flashing back to the moment when Jack pulled away from an intense kiss and laid back with his thighs parting wide in invitation. Nathan’s mouth goes dry and he doesn’t dare look to find what Allison’s seen in his expression.

“No,” he admits in a low voice, “we didn’t stop.”

“Nathan.”

Strangely he’s unable to interpret her tone; even when he opens his eyes to meet her gaze he’s unsure what to think. She looks calm, relaxed. He’s reminded of the time before their romantic entanglements and how their friendship had been amazingly simple and comfortable at the start.

She makes sure she has his attention before continuing. “I don’t doubt that the serum affected you, but you need to acknowledge that in some capacity you wanted this to happen.”

Destabilizing of inhibitions, perhaps. Teng is working on various alterations of the initial serum to observe the effects of each adjustment...

“Has Dr. Teng sent you notes about last night’s formula?” Nathan asks.

Allison rolls her eyes, then fixes him with a pointed stare. “Does it matter?”

He hesitates.

His gaze wanders to the windows overlooking the lobby and he finds himself imagining a dozen different times he watched the sheriff make his way towards this office. As he considers these phantom images he realizes that he’s had his eye on Jack even before he can recall the first stirrings of attraction.

Allison makes a small noise, returning his attention to the present. Her question replays in his mind, and he replies,

“No, it doesn’t.”

\---

It seems that inevitably everyone ends up at Café Diem whenever something’s gone wrong, or been successful, or the person is in need of a pick-me-up. This being the case, Nathan enters the café with a clean bill of health after a long day at Global, his tie absent and top button of his shirt undone. He settles onto a stool at the end of the bar and debates whether he’s hungry enough to order dinner.

A tall glass of chai latte comes into view, placed on the counter by a slim, clearly female hand. Nathan glances up warily to meet the intense stare of Zoe Carter. _Damn._

Going for casual, he stirs the straw in his drink and arches a sardonic brow. “Buying drinks for older men? What will your boyfriend say?”

The teen rolls her eyes dramatically before resting her elbows on the countertop. “Oh, it’s going on your tab. And you’re buying me my end of shift Deluxe Smoothie.” Nathan can’t quite hide his surprise at her assumption. She smirks in response.

“Now, private chat,” she says, turning serious. Her lips purse in irritation and he also notes the worried glint in her eyes. “You visited awfully late last night and disappeared too early this morning.”

Nathan’s unsettled by her conviction, wondering what she knows while aware that Jack wouldn’t have shared any relevant information with her. He’s not inclined to provide her with any details, either.

“Oh please. Don’t plead the fifth.” She crosses her arms and leans forward. “You screwed up, _big time_. Just admit that to yourself and tell my dad, too!”

“I don’t believe this is any of your business,” he says, though that’s not quite true.

Zoe looks utterly appalled. “ _Not_ my business?” They get a few strange looks at her raised voice. Thankfully she quiets again, but she’s glaring daggers at him. “He’s my _dad_! You were trying to suck his tonsils out in the hallway of my house! How the hell is it not my business?”

Nathan gives into the urge to cover his face with his hand. Oh shit. What all had she seen? _I swear to God I better not be blushing,_ he thinks irritably as he feels his face heat.

With a sigh, Zoe seems willing to back off a bit. “Dr. Stark, you really suck at hooking up.” It’d be amusing, this girl telling a grown man about relationships, if her attention wasn’t focused on him. “Thank God Allison turned you down.”

Nathan looks up sharply at that, offended and slightly hurt. Zoe’s expression isn’t hard, though, and she looks nearly sympathetic – except for that moue of frustration. “But she knew it, didn’t she? Hey, maybe I’m late to the party but I still have women’s intuition working for me.”

_What the hell...?_

“I’m not an idiot,” she defends, rolling her eyes at his suspicious glance. “You might be a real jerk, but so’s my dad.” She makes a face. “I can’t live with Dad being moody, and who knows when S.A.R.A.H. will decide to hold another intervention? _Fix this_ , Dr. Stark.” She glares at him with a determination that rivals Allison’s. Nathan’s surprised to realize he’s slightly intimidated.

When he doesn’t say anything, she threatens, “I’ll get Jo to hurt you! She doesn’t show it, but she’s awfully fond of Dad.”

Well, he’d already decided that he should talk to Jack – and soon. With both Allison and Zoe prepared to get on his case about it...

He’s standing before he’s fully thought this through. Zoe clears her throat and the mischievous look now crossing her face spells trouble. Nathan narrows her eyes as she says all-too-casually, “Oh, did I mention I’m staying at Pilar’s tonight?

“So, y’know, have fun!” She waves him off, though a sudden scowl spoils her light tone. “And for god’s sake, keep it in the bedroom next time!”

Nathan doesn’t dignify that with a response as he makes his escape – of course walking as casually as possible to avoid giving the curious onlookers any further material to gossip about.

\---

Jack is disturbed that S.A.R.A.H. has provided him with ice cream and asked if he wants to watch a comedy. Apparently Zoe had informed the house (before she told him) that she wasn’t coming home tonight. He’s a little worried about that given how their non-conversation went this morning. But back to the situation at hand, he recognizes S.A.R.A.H.’s setup as his daughter’s favorite way of coping with bad events – particularly of the relationship nature. (One time he’d even come home to find Jo joining Zoe in ice cream and romantic comedies. He never wants to see that again.)

The problem is, he’s actually a little tempted by this offer. The ice cream is Hailey’s Comet, after all: a delicious mix of vanilla, mini peanut butter cups, brownie chunks, and caramel... He stares at the bowl thoughtfully, wondering if he really ought to be eating something so unhealthy.

He’s just about to say to hell with the consequences when S.A.R.A.H. announces a visitor. Quickly he stashes the ice cream back in the freezer as the house swings the door open. He manages to suppress his shock when Nathan walks in, steps hesitant though his expression is a cool mask.

Nothing comes to mind as Jack stares at the scientist blankly. For a few moments he can’t even think of any questions as to why the man’s dropped by. Hadn’t they already had enough screw-ups in the last twenty-four hours?

“Uh, what are you doing here?” Jack could hit himself for asking such an idiotic question. Crap.

Nathan lets it slide, gaze thankfully sliding away from Jack’s face. Unfortunately, the sheriff’s eyes catch sight of the triangle of pale skin revealed by Nathan’s unbuttoned shirt and he sees the edge of a purplish mark. His mouth dries and something low in his gut tightens.

“It’s possible I owe you an apology... Jack.” The name forms awkwardly on the man’s tongue, but Jack feels a little thrill run through him anyways.

“For what?” he asks, defensively folding his arms.

Nathan shifts uncomfortably before raising his gaze. His lips quirk in a skewed smile. “My attitude this morning was inappropriate.”

“Oh?” It comes out sounding more disappointed than Jack meant. He winces.

“I mean—” Nathan lets out a huff of frustration.

Jack decides he really doesn’t care to hear Nathan stutter through some apology that at its core means nothing at all. He exits the kitchen and points at the door. “Out. Just go.”

“Jack,” Nathan starts, irritation coloring his previously apologetic tone.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Jack cuts in, not meeting the searching gaze. “Just go. We’ll be fine in a few—”

Nathan much more successfully interrupts by seizing Jack’s arms and sealing their lips together. Jack is so startled that he mindlessly goes with the flow. His eyelids flutter shut as Nathan propels him backward.

It’s when Jack’s shoulders hit the wall that he comes to his senses. _Oh shit!_

Desperately Jack shoves Nathan an arm’s length away, regretfully eyeing the scientist’s tantalizing parted lips. Hands still splayed against Nathan’s chest, Jack hangs his head. “Damn it, not again! Or is this some aftereffect? For chrissake, how long’s this thing supposed to last?”

He forces himself to look up and tries to hide the toll this takes to resist. “Just... go, please. Or I can call Allison or Fargo or someone to come get you.”

Nathan looks baffled for all of a few seconds before stepping back with a groan. “Damn it, Carter,” he growls. He turns around and stalks to the couch. His leans his fist on the back as he heaves a frustrated sigh. He mutters something like, “She’s right, I really _do_ suck at this,” though Jack isn’t sure.

Jack slumps against the wall and rubs his face tiredly. His blood’s still pounding, arousal stubbornly demanding attention. And oh God, he wants Nathan against him again – stripping him, licking him, stroking—

_Yeah. That’s not helping._

“Shit. I keep fucking this up and I don’t _want_ to. You are the most idiotic—” Nathan turns around, glaring in annoyance at Jack. “Why the hell am I even thinking about you? Stubborn bastard, you just waltz in and magically get assigned sheriff, winning over half the town in less than a week. _Two years_ you flirt with my ex-wife. Never take advantage of anyone even when you’d get away completely without blame. Your deputy, who refuses to listen to anyone, follows your orders and actually likes you. By now you’ve got most of the town under your thumb and you don’t even realize it. How are you this oblivious?”

Jack feels very, very lost, but instinct insists that there’s something hopeful in all this. Nathan’s still ranting, which is kind of funny, but Jack steps forward with his hands raised to cut him off.

“Whoa, hey. Hold on a sec.” When Nathan presses his lips shut and closes his eyes, Jack thinks that the man looks like he’s waiting for some fatal verdict. “What’s really going on?” Jack asks, suddenly sure that there isn’t any weird science-y craziness involved. Something strange is happening, certainly, but it’s not pheromone-induced.

Nathan’s hands unclench and his shoulders slump. “Damn it, Jack,” he mutters, eyes opening and slowly meeting Jack’s gaze. “What do you want to hear?”

 _Oh._ Jack can tell he’s gaping, but he can’t seem to react any other way. The implications are... almost too much to hope for. He doesn’t know how to respond. Then again, Nathan’s a genius and in this case those brains can work outside the scientific capacity.

They’re stumbling across the floor again, lips smashed together while hands busily tug at clothing. Jack winces as his back jams into the kitchen island but he ignores it since he’s able to push away Nathan’s jacket. Both pairs of hands get to work undoing buttons. (Jack’s sure there’s at least one that popped off in their haste.)

This time it seems like Nathan’s determined to get Jack naked first. The scientist works on pants as Jack yanks off his shirt and trying to toe off his shoes. Nathan’s mouth ghosts over his stomach and hip and thigh as he crouches to strip Jack bare.

Jack watches through lowered lashes as Nathan rids himself of footwear and opens his pants before standing up. Their mouths meet again, teeth scraping together during a frenzied kiss. Nathan’s hands grip tightly on Jack’s hips and the sheriff sinks his fingers beneath the final layers of cloth. Their mouths slip apart as pants and underwear clear Nathan’s knees. The scientist licks Jack’s jaw line, following it to his neck and then nibbling his way down to the collarbone where a few hickies had formed.

The suction on already sensitive skin makes Jack wince, but the minor pain surprisingly increases his desire. He digs his fingers into the muscles of Nathan’s back and hooks his leg around his lover, pressing as close as he can.

“Shhhiiit,” he hisses as Nathan reaches from behind to stroke his perineum. His hips buck; Nathan goes back to nibbling every bit of skin in reach. Jack’s sure he can’t hold on for much longer if Nathan keeps up, and he isn’t quite sure he wants this to end yet. Apparently the scientist feels the same way because he abruptly pulls away. Jack’s head falls back as he groans at the sudden rush of cool air on his damp skin.

“Impatient,” Nathan accuses, amusement in his voice. Jack rolls his eyes. A confused frown crosses Nathan’s face as his eye catches something across the room.

“What?” Jack turns his head and stares in surprise at the tube sitting next to the kitchen sink. “Um...”

Nathan clears his throat before addressing the ceiling. “S.A.R.A.H., _privacy_ mode.” He pins Jack with a threatening stare. “Stay put.”

Jack watches the man cross the room, momentarily preoccupied by watching the muscles of his backside flex as he moves. Then time catches up with him and Jack chokes on a joint feeling of horror and laughter. _Oh my God. My house just gave me the go-ahead to have sex._ By the time Nathan grabs the provided lube, Jack is in hysterics, bent over as he laughs so hard he can feel tears gathering.

He’s still laughing when Nathan hauls him upright and starts mouthing his ear. His laughter turns into a shuddering moan when Nathan’s slick fingers encircle his cock. Jack wraps his arms around his lover and shifts so that his legs bracket Nathan’s. He arches encouragingly and leans close to whisper _please_.

Nathan’s breath escapes in a shuddered gasp. He moves his hands to cup Jack’s ass, one sliding lower to guide the thighs wider. Jack bites Nathan’s shoulder as two fingers slip inside. It aches a little, even though his muscles are fairly loose after last night. Nathan distracts him by running his tongue along Jack’s ear. The shiver of pleasure makes the discomfort of the probing fingers fade away. By the time Nathan slips in a third finger, he brushes against the prostate and Jack groans. Nathan chuckles when _fuck_ passes the sheriff’s lips.

“You don’t usually swear, even when you’re pissed.” Nathan follows his observation with a firm stroke across the prostate.

Jack swears again. “You... I can’t _control_ ,” he hisses, rocking against the now still fingers. “ _Move_ , asshole.”

Nathan starts laughing. He removes his fingers lowers his hands to cup Jack’s ass. “Help me out, here.”

Bracing against the counter, Jack is able to help lift both legs around Nathan’s waist. The scientist grunts with the increase of weight but holds his ground. “Towel,” he mutters. Jack reaches to snag the dishtowel nearby and shoves it behind him to protect his back from the counter’s sharp edge. “You’re going to have a hell of a bruise, Sheriff.”

Jack continues to brace himself on one arm and closes his free hand around Nathan’s bicep. “Already walking funny,” he retorts.

Nathan smirks as he shifts, lining up and carefully pushing forward. Jack’s body arches as they meet. The scientist restrains from moving too quickly, though he’s eager to close the distance and taste that exposed neck.

When he’s fully in he takes a moment to lick away the sweat gathering along Jack’s collarbone. He doesn’t move until Jack’s grip on his arm tightens painfully. Nathan pulls back and slams home.

“Fuck!” Jack’s surprise is worth it. Nathan hides his grin against Jack’s jaw. Occasionally their mouths meet, but mostly they stay cheek to cheek as they pant. Jack uses his legs to encourage Nathan’s pace, the speed steadily increasing.

Jack’s mantra alternates between _fuck_ and _Nathan_ and _please_. The scientist’s hands tighten as sweat threatens to loosen his grip. Jack’s words trail off into a low – good God, is that a _growl_? Nathan’s right on the edge when Jack moves a hand to his cock. Nathan keeps his eyes open, watching as Jack strokes himself to orgasm. Nathan buries himself deep, climaxing as he stares at Jack’s face.

 _I can’t control myself_ , Jack had tried to say. The thought makes him wonder how Nathan will take advantage of that – at a later date.

\---

Zoe still isn’t sure she’s ready to return to the bunker after school the next day, but surely she’d given them enough time? She shudders, sure she’ll be scared for life after _that_ lovely image of her dad making out (okay, way more than that) with Dr. Stark.

After a few minutes of sitting in her car, she takes a fortifying breath and gets out. She bounds down the steps as if she’ll loose her nerve. S.A.R.A.H. greets her and promptly opens the door, so she figures this is a promising sign. Even so, she shuts her eyes as she first steps inside and calls out, “Um... hello?”

“Zo?” Jack sounds amused.

Hesitantly Zoe opens one eye. Locating her dad – standing alone in the kitchen with a beer – she heaves a sigh of relief. Opening both eyes, she gladly walks all the way inside. Now that she knows there’s no disgusting parental public displays of (sexual) affection to be seen, she regains some of her bold curiosity.

“Beer me!” she tells S.A.R.A.H.. The house doesn’t comment as her drink fills. Jack looks scandalized until Zoe smirks and explains, “ _Root beer_ , Dad! C’mon. You know I can’t hack the house.”

“Please do not attempt to do so,” S.A.R.A.H. responds.

“Promise!” Zoe turns her full attention on her dad, widening her eyes in exaggerated innocence. “So, you have a good night?”

She’s amused (and secretly a little horrified) by the blush that creeps all the way down Jack’s neck. She must have a hidden masochistic side because the next words out of her mouth are, “What did you do?”

Her dad gapes at her, a mixture of shock and irritation covering his expression. His voice isn’t the one that answers, however. Seemingly out of nowhere Dr. Stark appears in the kitchen and announces, “Oh this and that.” Jack turns a scandalized gaze his way. Zoe knows that she’s the one blushing now.

Dr. Stark watches her with a smug expression as he stops at Jack’s side and fingers his collar. “I couldn’t find the bruise salve,” he says, eyes alight with amusement as he tugs aside Jack’s collar.

Zoe’s eyes get huge when she sees a very dark hickey that Stark possessively caresses with one finger. She barely muffles a yelp as she flees to the living room. Clutching her schoolbag protectively she asks hopefully, “CanIgotoPilar’s?”

Her dad takes a moment to decipher that. With a frown he says, “No. Just, uh... go and study in your room. I’ll get you for dinner.”

Zoe darts partway up the stairs. Standing still, she mutters to herself, “I think you want something else, Dad.”

Stark’s voice drifts up into the stairwell. “That was fun.”

“Who are you trying to traumatize, me or her? Do not do that in front of her again. She’s gonna think she can get away with walking in some day with—”

“Love bites?”

She can imagine the scowl her dad’s wearing. “Ugh. I do not want that in my head. God knows it’s going to happen eventually.”

“Then I’ll just help you traumatize her some more.”

“Yeah, right. I’m your real target.”

Stark chuckles and there’s a long pause where Zoe is certain they’re kissing. (Sweet, but also totally gross.) “I like watching you lose control.”

And that is more than enough for her poor teenage brain to handle. She runs the rest of the way to her room and throws herself into her studies, praying that physics equations will fill her head instead of the disconcerting image of Dr. Stark very nearly _petting_ her dad.

\-----


End file.
